Written by: James Nichols

A toddler's stumble, a parent's catch,
he'll walk alone so soon.
Freewill negates most every latch.
No song without a tune.

Now adolescence binges nightly.
Some see a future bleak.
Those who can't their minds closed tightly.
Deaf minds will never speak.

Middle-aged, depressed, he paces.
How did he lose his edge?
Frozen feet, yet a mind that races
while he's stepped out on the ledge.

For reality now he sees more clearly,
and present cannot be past.
For no one wants to be just nearly.
In the human race, first is last.